The Darkness of a Writer's Heart
by UsagiKurari
Summary: Mort Rainey doesn't remember anything about that night when his wife died. and now John Shooter is back, looking for revenge
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Secret Window. The original was done by Stephen King, and who would steal from a genius like that?  
  
Darkness of A writer's heart.  
  
Chapter1  
  
Love is a fragile thing. So fragile that the smallest thing can break it into a dozen tiny pieces, leaving its victims shattered and in pieces as well. This is what Mort Rainey felt when he saw his wife in that motel room, doing it with a total stranger, his heart shattering into little fragments. Because of the incident and his now growing hatred towards his wife, he decided to kill her, and anybody else who got in his way. He buried her in the corn fields out in the back of his house on that lake underneath layers and layers of dirt. That was her favorite place to be when she was alive. Ever since she found that secret window behind the dresser, she had gone down there to pick corn when it was in season, and plant new stalks when it wasn't. Mort Rainey would look out that tiny window at the corn stalks each day when he was writing at his laptop, maybe to find a new idea for a story.  
  
But when he looked out at the corn, he would look at it, and remember nothing.  
  
He knew he did something in the corn garden, hid something, but he would remember nothing.  
  
But John Shooter remembered, after all, he did it.  
  
And that's where our story begins.  
  
There was a knock on Mort Rainey's door around 8:00 in the morning. Mort rose from his sleep on the couch, dressed in his usual striped robe, his hair in tangles. Pulling his glasses on, he muttered something, and went towards the door, peeking through the screen to see who it was. It was an outline of a man he knew too well.  
  
John Shooter.  
  
Mort opened the door, and greeted the familiar southern corn farmer with his usual "What do you want?"  
  
"I came here to thank you," he replied in his southern accent.  
  
"Thank me for what?" Mort asked.  
  
"For fixing the ending of MY story for me."  
  
"Wait.. hold up," Mort said. "What do you mean your story? We already went over this. It was my story from the beginning."  
  
"You don't remember what happened at all do you Mr. Rainey,"  
  
Mort looked down in frustration. "Remember what?"  
  
A smile spread across Shooter's face. "I thought so. I thought you probably wouldn't remember anything."  
  
"Ok Shooter, I don't know what you're getting at, but I fixed your ending, I published the new ending, and now, you can leave." and Mort quickly slammed the door, only for it to be stopped by Shooter's foot.  
  
"I didn't come here to just thank you Mr. Rainey, cuz there's still one problem."  
  
Mort sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "And what would that be?"  
  
"The story still has your name on it."  
  
"I didn't really find a need to put your name on it, it was my story, you can't change that."  
  
"I don't care what you say Mr. Rainey, nothin can change the fact that you stole my story in the first place."  
  
"Look, I don't even know why I fixed the ending in the first place. You killed Chico, Tom Greenleaf, and Karsch, I don't want to have anything more to do with you, so if you will kindly leave, I can get back to my writing,"  
  
"I don't think so Mr. Rainey. You give me the credit for the story, I'll let you go, but if you don't, I'll be forced to take action into my own hands. You have 3 days to send a letter to your publisher to tell him to change the author's name to John Shooter. That's when I'll be back. "and he left without another word.  
  
Mort just sighed and muttered under his breath "What a jackass."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Sheriff Dave Newsome was driving up to Rainey's house. He couldn't get that guy out of his mind. He knew that Mort had killed those people. He knew, but he had no evidence. He had no proof. That was why he was driving up now. He needed the proof to put Mort Rainey behind bars.  
  
Coming up to Rainey's cabin, he glanced at the front porch, and saw Rainey. He was in his pajamas. 'Must have just woken up,' he thought to himself. He parked his car in his driveway, and walked up to the porch, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes.  
  
"Mr. Rainey," he called out to the dazed man.  
  
Rainey spotted him quickly, and Newsome could of sworn he saw Rainey's eyes go wide in fear, but it had disappeared as quickly as it had come.  
  
"Hello officer," Rainey called out.  
  
"Hello Rainey," he said back. "I just came up here to see how you were holding up."  
  
"I'm just fine,"  
  
"That's good to hear. Remember, if that guy comes around again looking to mess with you again, remember, we aren't to far away."  
  
"I'll remember that," Rainey replied, and Newsome went back to his car.  
  
'I'll get the little killer someday, he can't hide the evidence forever,"  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
How wuz it? Review please! 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Secret Window. However, I do own the book Four Past Midnight, which contains it. Really, I got it for easter. However, I do own Rachel, and James.  
  
Hi. Thank you to the people who reviewed:  
  
Chibi Hermione  
  
Dawnie-7  
  
NaimhOFeir704  
  
Sherlock's Sparrow  
  
pandgal  
  
beadsnabone  
  
I feel so special!  
  
Sorry it took a little long for this chapter to come up, I was working on my Inuyasha story, so I kind of forgot about this one. Anyway, here's the second chapter. Enjoy!  
  
Darkness of a Writer's Heart  
  
Chapter 2  
  
After the little meeting with John Shooter, Mort had gone back inside, and settled down on the couch again. Taking off his glasses, he closed his eyes and waited for sleep to consume him.  
  
Ah, but Mort Rainey never gets his sleep.  
  
Soon after he had closed his eyes, he heard footsteps coming from behind the couch. Opening his eyes once again, he peeked over the couch to see what was causing the racket. He spotted what looked like a woman in the corner.  
  
Oh god, not her!  
  
Mrs. Gavin was Mort's cleaning lady. She came by once a week, or so, to clean his house, and maybe hear some of his new writing material.  
  
He hated her guts.  
  
And besides, why would she be here? 'I thought I fired her.' Mort thought to himself. Forcing himself to get up, he put on his glasses, and walked over to the woman he saw. He lightly tapped her on the shoulder, and she spun around.  
  
He must have been really tired because it wasn't Mrs. Gavin.  
  
The woman in his house looked maybe around her early thirties. She had a petite figure, a wide full face, and a nice complexion, with only a few signs of aging. She had dazzling green eyes, long curly brown hair that came down to her waist, and full lips.  
  
She was the prettiest woman Mort had ever seen since Amy.  
  
Amy.  
  
What happened to her anyway?  
  
"Hello Mr. Rainey," the woman said. "My name is Rachel Havelock, your new cleaning lady."  
  
"Hello," he responded.  
  
"I saw you sleeping on the couch there, and didn't want to wake you up, so I went straight to work. Hope you don't mind."  
  
"No, no I don't."  
  
"That's good. I'm going to get to work now okay?"  
  
"Sure, go ahead." She nodded, and went straight to work, like she said she would. 'She's cute.' Mort thought to himself. Snapping out of his thoughts, he went to the kitchen, grabbed a coke from the fridge, and went straight up the stairs to his laptop, and attempted to write another piece of crap to publish.  
  
He sat at his typewriter, staring out that little window, like he always did, hoping for inspiration to hit him, but it never did. Breaking his gaze from the window, he turned back to the computer screen. He hadn't written down anything yet. All this work was, was a blank white sheet, and a blinking cursor.  
  
He couldn't take it anymore.  
  
He needed a cigarette.  
  
Bad.  
  
He reached over to the top desk drawer, pulled it open, and searched for his secret box. It was gone.  
  
'I guess I have to go out and buy some more.'  
  
He went into his bedroom, got dressed in a pair of khaki pants, a brown shirt, and his usual black ski hat, and went to his car. He stuck the keys in the ignition, and backed out of the dirt driveway.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
About 5 minutes after he had backed out of the driveway, his car started to beep, signaling that it was out of gas. He continued to drive, ignoring it, but it just kept beeping. Soon, the car stopped altogether.  
  
"Shit," Mort said out loud. He got out of the car, went to the trunk, got out the gas tank, and started to walk down the road towards the gas station.  
  
The whole walk there, he felt like he was being watched. Like someone's eyes were glaring at his back. Soon, not being able to take the feeling anymore, he turned around, and spotted John Shooter pulling up next to him.  
  
"Hello Mr. Rainey. Did you call the publisher yet?"  
  
"No," Mort answered in a frustrated tone. "Why would I call him anyway?"  
  
"Look Mr. Rainey," Shooter stated. "You know, as well as I do, that that story was mine from the beginning. You stole it from me. You put your name on it. I want revenge."  
  
"But didn't I fix your ending?"  
  
"Yes but the story has your name on it, so either way, your still calling it yours." A car suddenly slowed down from behind, and pulled up next to Shooter.  
  
"Hey," the man in the car called out. Shooter pulled down the brim of his hat, waved, and drove off. "Need a lift?" he asked Mort.  
  
"Uh.. Yea." Mort answered. The car came to a stop, and let Mort in. It was an old car, maybe a 1960 Mustang, and it was all banged up and full of dents. Mort hesitantly climbed in, and closed the door, but carefully, hoping it wouldn't fall off its hinges.  
  
"Where are we going?" the man asked. Mort was able to get a good look at him now. He was a thin man, maybe in his mid-50's. He had on a blue baseball cap, dark sunglasses, and when he opened his mouth, Mort noticed a couple of teeth missing.  
  
"To the gas station. My car ran out of gas."  
  
"Okay. By the way, names James Donman."  
  
"Look, if you don't mind, I'm in a little of a rush. I need to do some stuff. Can you just get to the gas station quick?"  
  
"Surely." and James drove off down the road, going over the speed limit.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
James had driven him to the gas station, and drove him back to his car as well. Mort had quickly got out, carrying the gas tank, and filled up the car. He then got into his car, and drove off without thanking James.  
  
'Man that guy was a pain.' Mort thought to himself. Before he knew it, he was at the small store where he usually got his cigarettes. He walked up to the lunch counter in the front of the store, and tried to catch the woman behind the counter's attention.  
  
"Why, hello Mr. Rainey," the woman said with a big smile on her face. "I just finished reading your new story. It gave me the chills."  
  
"That's nice Gerta," Mort said back to her. "But can you just give me a pack of cigarettes so I can leave?"  
  
"Sure Mr. Rainey." She handed him a pack, he paid for it, and walked briskly out the door.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~  
  
Sorry its short, but its longer than the first one. Just be grateful ok? R&R 


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